Fly Away

The silence in the apartment was deafening. Tension saturated the air. He was sat across the small coffee table, his knee bounced up and down. His gaze averted itself from my shaking form to the bright, blue sky outside. I watched with caution as he leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh. The bird in the small, white cage made a small noise as the tension grew. 

“Can’t we just talk about this?” His voice reverberated through the apartment. 

      “Why do you have to be like this?” I tried to hide the cracks in my voice, not daring to let my façade falter. 

      “Like what? Myself?” He asked.

      “No, this isn’t you, it never has been. You were supposed to be different. I don’t want this anymore if this is how you are going to act! I can do perfectly fine without you!” 

      “Wow. It’s like you really don’t know me at all do you? I was different! But I guess you never cared enough to see it! I don’t need this! You think you don’t need me? We’ll see about that. You’ll come crawling back to me like you always do.” The anger could be cut with a knife.

      “That’s what you think of me?! That I am that pathetic that I need you to survive? You’re ridiculous! I am the independent one in this relationship! Who pays the bills? Me. Who found and pays for this apartment? Me. Who takes care of Tweety? Me. It’s all me cause you need someone to take care of you! You always have!” I yelled.

      “I don’t need this. We’re done.” 

      SLAM! The sound of the lock clicking into place was the last sound heard. The bird in the small, white cage started tweeting. It started tweeting a sweet song that only birds could do. I tried to find comfort in it, but I could not.  

      “Did that just happen?” I muttered in disbelief. 

      Sounds of the street could be heard from the open window. The yellow bird tweeted its song again. The sweet sound echoed around the apartment. 

      “Okay.” 

      I was standing in front of the white cage. The door to the cage was open. Who opened it? I did not know. A glimmer of yellow jumped to the coffee table. Then the windowsill. Then the open air. The warm breeze blew in, billowing the curtains in such a way they resembled wings.

      “Hey! Wait!” The bird was gone. The second person to walk out on me that day.

      “Why did he have to do that? I don’t need him.” I muttered to myself and closed the window. 

      The next three days could only be described as hell. Everything I did would remind me of him. No matter how many times I told myself I did not need him, the longing for him grew. Waking up alone was agony. The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought back every morning spent cuddled in bed, ignoring responsibility till the very last moment. The plush, black couch with the white pillows was filled with memories of movie nights, reading sessions, and heartfelt confessions. 

      The knock at the door broke me from my trance. I made my way to the door, pulling my robe on as I went. I pulled open the door without looking through the peephole. 

      “Hey.” His voice was low and gruff. He looked as rough as I felt. His hair was matted to his forehead as if he had run a mile. His clothes, the same ones from the day he left, were wrinkled from days of not washing them. His once clean-shaven face was rough with hair. The bags under his once bright, hazel eyes deep and dark. 

      “What are you doing here?” I muttered, not meeting his eyes. 

      “I have nowhere else to go.” He whispered. 

      I finally met his eyes. They glittered with a silent plea. I pulled the door open further as an invitation.

      He made his way inside with caution. I shut the door behind him with a soft click. I stared at the door for a few moments, not daring to turn around.

      “Are you just going to stare at the door?” He asked. 

      I shuddered at the sound of his voice. The voice that just three days ago was screaming at me. The voice that three days ago was filled with hate and anger directed towards me. I slowly turned to face him. 

      “Listen, I know. I have no right coming back here, especially after what I said to you, but hear me out. These last few days have been hell without you. You were right. I’m not independent. I don’t know how to be. I came here to tell you that. I need you to know that.” He said quickly. 

      I stood in silence. He took a few steps closer to me. 

      “Are you going to make me say it? Fine, I need you. I cannot be without you. I need you in my life to be happy.” I felt him get closer to me, “Do you need me too? Please, darling, answer me. I need to know if you need me too.” 

      I lifted my gaze to meet his. His hazel eyes were pleading. They were filled with guilt and sadness. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I did not recognize the broken man that was stood in front of me. I lifted a shaky hand to his face and ran it across his gruff jaw. 

      “I need you, too,” I whispered. 

      A smile found its way to his face as the whispered words hung in the air. My arms wound their way around his shoulders as tears welled up in my eyes. 

      “You need me? Even, with you being more independent?” He said with a laugh. 

      “Yes, I need you. But only a little bit.” I laughed. 

      “A little bit is better than not at all.” He said. 

      He pulled me close. I let my head fall to his shoulder.

      “I have one question.” He whispered. I pulled my head up to meet his gaze.

      “Where is Tweety?”